


The Mysteries

by softestpunk



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, gross misuse of Greek mythology, hangovers, this is just sheer self-indulgence sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 10:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17486243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/softestpunk
Summary: Post-initiation into the Cult of Demeter via the Mysteries of Eleusis, Alkibiades has a hangover like no other and a lot of feelings. Thankfully, Alexios always seems to show up at just the right moment.





	The Mysteries

Wherever Alkibiades went, Alexios mused as he stepped over a woman passed out on the floor, drunkenness, debauchery, and obscenity followed.

Not that he meant it as a criticism.

He found the man in question sprawled over a kline, though he was one slipped cushion away from being on the floor.

“Long symposium last night?” he asked, startling Alkibiades out of the half-doze he’d been in.

The other man blinked at him, brow furrowing, lips pursed.

“Alexios,” he said, face brightening as he worked his way through the apparently complicated syllables. He groaned as he sat up, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes tightly.

“Come. Sit.” Alkibiades nodded to the space beside him, shuffling over to make room.

Alexios perched on the open end of the kline, letting his knee bump against Alkibiades’ as he settled into position. In turn, Alkibiades leaned forward, his elbows propped up against his knees, head in his hands.

“Thought you could handle a hangover by now,” Alexios said, unsure whether or not he was welcome to reach out and touch.

He wanted to. He _always_ wanted to. Touching Alkibiades reminded him of handling a fine, delicate pot, though he knew that was only the surface. This was a man who was tougher than he appeared, and more clever, too.

Alkibiades wanted people to see a rich, beautiful idiot, and so they did.

“This is no mere hangover,” Alkibiades said. “This is the result of initiation into the Eleusinian Mysteries.”

Alexios had heard a thing or two about those. He didn’t pretend to understand, but he did know that the Athenians held them in high regard, that they transcended a mere religious rite, that all the most prominent Athenians took part.

Which explained why Alkibiades would do so. He was a man destined for great things.

But right now, he was a man suffering from being alive and awake.

“But you are just what I need,” Alkibiades announced, turning to look at Alexios. “A big, strong misthios to protect me while I get some fresh air.”

Alexios raised an eyebrow. “You need someone to protect you while you go for a walk?”

Alkibiades rose, teetered a little, but then found his balance, reaching out to offer his hand. “I no longer fear death, Alexios,” he said seriously, “but I still do not invite it.”

Curious, Alexios took the offered hand and allowed Alkibiades to lead him out of the darkened room and into the light, which he winced against immediately. Perhaps the hangover _was_ a little more serious than usual.

All the same, Alexios watched him grab a pomegranate from a bowl on the way to the door, and continued to follow. Adventures with Alkibiades were at least never dull.

They walked in silence for a time, heading for the city gates and out onto the road beyond the walls, heading up a hill ahead.

Alkibiades was silent, which was so unusual that it prompted Alexios to actually worry over Alkibiades’ health. The Mysteries were known to be taxing, the long trek to and from Eleusis enough to test any man. Especially one who rarely rose before the sun was at its peak.

Finally, Alkibiades settled by a tree, inviting Alexios to sit by him with a broad gesture. Short of any better offers, Alexios sat beside him, leaning his back against the trunk and letting his legs stretch out in front of him.

“You said you no longer fear death,” Alexios began as Alkibiades took advantage of his position and leaned against him, half-burying his face in Alexios’ shoulder. “Why?”

“The Mysteries,” Alkibiades murmured, snuggling closer and sighing as he finally got comfortable. “Can I trouble you for a knife?” he asked, holding out the pomegranate.

Alexios passed him a small dagger without a word, watching him cut into the fruit, the red juices spilling over his hand. He cleaned the blade on the hem of Alexios’ chiton, humming softly.

“That will never come out,” he said, nodding to the stain as he handed the knife back.

“Thank you, Alkibiades,” Alexios said, tucking the dagger away again. “I can always count on you to make my life hard.”

“But you can also count on me to make _other_ things hard.” Alkibiades smirked. “And that _is_ why you keep coming back, isn’t it?”

Alexios wet his lips. It wasn’t that this was untrue—Alkibiades was a fun, enthusiastic partner, someone Alexios caught himself thinking about more often than he would have liked on long, lonely nights, but…

That wasn’t the _whole_ truth, and he preferred not to lie. Not to this man, who he suspected dealt with enough liars and flatterers without adding Alexios to their number.

“It’s all right to admit it,” Alkibiades said. “I like you, too. I always look forward to your visits.”

He picked an aril from the pomegranate and reached out, pressing it to Alexios’ lips. Alexios’ tongue darted out to catch it, draw it into his mouth, the tart sweetness bursting over his tongue as the thin outer skin broke. He hummed softly, running his tongue around his mouth to savour the taste.

“One,” Alkibiades murmured, and Alexios had no idea what he meant, but he was getting used to that when it came to Athenians. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes,” Alexios responded. “I think of you.”

 _Often_ , he didn’t add. That would have been too much.

“I saw visions of the underworld, Alexios,” Alkibiades said, all of a sudden. “Of what comes after death, and I am no longer afraid. I understand.”

“Should you be telling me about the Mysteries?” Alexios asked, sure he’d heard that was forbidden.

“No,” Alkibiades said. “The punishment for sharing them with the uninitiated is death,” he added, holding out another small handful of arils for Alexios.

Alexios licked them from the palm of his hand.

“Five,” Alkibiades said. “You would not betray me.”

“I wouldn’t?” Alexios asked.

He wouldn’t, and he knew it, but he was surprised by Alkibiades’ confidence all the same.

“No,” he said, offering another single aril on the tip of his finger.

Alexios accepted by sealing his lips around the whole digit and sucking it off, a thrill of excitement running through him at the chance to play beforehand.

He liked Alkibiades like this. Too hungover to be aggressive, soft and playful and warm against his side. He would have liked more of this.

“Six,” Alkibiades said, looking up at Alexios with triumph shining in his eyes. “Do you know the story of Hades and Persephone, Alexios?”

“Hades kidnapped Persephone and took her to the underworld. He tricked her into eating pomegranate seeds before Zeus could order him to return her to her mother, Demeter. So now she spends half the year there and half the year here, and that is why there is cold in the winter.”

Alkibiades hummed. “Let me tell it,” he began. “Kore—the daughter of Demeter before she was Persephone—ran from Demeter and was found by Hades, who loved her from the moment he set eyes on her. He took her to the underworld and cared for her, but Demeter was distraught at the loss of her daughter. Zeus ordered Hades to return her, but the lovers would not be parted. Hades offered her a pomegranate, since one who eats in the underworld is bound to it. How many of the seeds did she eat?”

“I’m guessing six,” Alexios said, understanding the counting now.

“Six,” Alkibiades confirmed. “Hades made her Persephone, the queen of the dead, who would rule at his side. But she must visit her mother, too, or Demeter’s grief causes the crops to wilt and the ground to freeze. But the summer is not forever, and winter will always come.”

Alexios hummed, giving into the urge to lean down and kiss Alkibiades’ pomegranate-stained lips.

“Would you have accepted the seeds if it meant I would keep you half the year?” Alkibiades asked as the kiss broke, climbing into Alexios’ lap, his knees planted either side of Alexios’ hips.

Reaching down, Alexios plucked arils from the pomegranate half still in Alkibiades’ hand until he had six of his own to offer.

“Would you?” he asked, bringing his palm up to Alkibiades’ mouth.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Alkibiades licked them away all at once, chewing and swallowing with an urgency that made Alexios squirm under him, the certainty of the gesture shaking him.

“I’m not getting a better offer than the kind, honest misthios always so eager to help,” he said.

“You pay me,” Alexios pointed out, though he had done Alkibiades plenty of favours by now. All to see him happy, all to see his life made a little easier.

“There’s no man or woman in Athens not interested in my coin purse,” Alkibiades said. “You at least provide a service worth paying for. And you never charge for the other one.”

“I could have?” Alexios asked, raising an eyebrow. He meant it as a joke, but the look on Alkibiades’ face told him it hadn’t quite landed that way.

“You could, and I would have paid,” he said. “I would have paid any price, and I would have become one of those poor, sad men who falls in love with his favourite.”

Alexios swallowed thickly. Alkibiades was…

In love.

With him?

“Don’t take it so seriously,” Alkibiades murmured, meeting Alexios’ eyes and holding his gaze. “I fall in love with everyone who treats me kindly.”

Throat still tight, Alexios took Alkibiades’ free hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “I have nowhere better to be for a few days, at least. It’s not half the year, but…”

Alkibiades’ face lit up in a way Alexios would have liked to see more often.

“I’ll take it,” he said, darting in to peck Alexios’ lips. “Just… let me recover from the initiation, first.”

“Take your time,” Alexios said, pulling Alkibiades closer in a way he might not have dared to only minutes ago.

There were few enough beautiful things in the world. This one, he could hold in his hands, just for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> \- [Here's a footnote on the Mysteries of Eleusis for the curious](https://www.ancient.eu/article/32/the-eleusinian-mysteries-the-rites-of-demeter/)


End file.
